


I was too slow

by L_Marco_99



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Coda, Domestic Fluff, Episode Fix-It: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Episode: s15e18 Despair, First Kiss, Fix-It, Happy Ending, M/M, Pancakes, Post-Canon, Spoilers for Episode: s15e18 Despair, Sweet, s15e19 Inherit the Earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27622357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_Marco_99/pseuds/L_Marco_99
Summary: This fic takes place after episode 15x19 and it replaces the (worst) series finale (ever). It opens with Dean trying to process his grief and any other feelings he might have after Cass's death and the love confession. His pain turns into anger, regret, and bitterness. Sam, who imagines what might be going on, tries to find a way for Dean to have some sort of closure. But Dean doesn't want closure. He wants Cass back.It starts pretty sad but don't worry: I promise the ending will make you smile.Let's all have a bit of emotional closure and forget 15x20 (Carry On) ever existed
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 88





	1. Grief (and confusion).

Dean did not tell Sam about Cass's confession. How could he ever? He still couldn't decide if it meant what he thinks it meant. Cass is (was, he keeps reminding himself) not human. Emotions are a tricky thing for him. He knows Cass is capable of love, he proved that time and time again, and he knows Cass can understand, and quite possibly feel physical attraction. He's seen the dude throw Meg against a wall, pizza man style. Also, Cass has been human, and in that period of time, he flirted with the idea of a date, of a romantic relationship with his boss back at that terrible convenience store Dean found him working at. But the fact that Cass has experienced all that is not proof of anything. Every time he talks to angels he is reminded that they are not human, even when the angels themselves appear not to remember that. But Cass is not most angels. He's lived among humans for such a long time, and he has grown so much over the last ten years. Maybe, just maybe, Cass knew exactly what he was saying when he said that he loved Dean. Maybe it meant exactly what Dean thought it meant. That was a dangerous train of thought, and Dean knows that. 

That's why he doesn't tell Sam anything. Talking about it makes it real. Too damn real. And real things can be analyzed, discussed, understood, and he doesn't know if he's ready to analyze this whole thing just yet. So he gives himself time to grieve. Grieving Castiel's loss would be easier than trying to understand his own feelings on the subject, he suspects. After all, pain is pain. He lost a loved one, and that's an emotion he's able to grasp easily. He doesn't need to label his relationship with someone to be able to grieve that person. At least that's what he thought. 

It turns out, grief is a much different process when there is regret, doubt, or unfinished business alongside it. It's different from the first time he lost his mother. That was one of the most painful experiences he ever faced, but it was not complicated. Just sad. Sad and extremely unfair to a four-year-old. Then losing his dad was a bit more complicated. There were doubts and unfinished business this time. There was also resentment, which does not sit well with the feeling of loss. And losing Sam... that was never even an option, so there usually wasn't a lot of time for grieving since he was usually busy bringing Sam back. The one time he actually felt the loss was after Sam and Lucifer fell into the cage, back in 2009, and he moved in with Lisa and Ben. That was devastating in a way words couldn't begin to express. But it wasn't complicated. It was hell on earth and pain he would carry for the rest of his life if Sam hadn't come back. But again, not a complicated feeling. He thought the grieving process with Cass would feel somehow like that, but it didn't. It didn't because every time he would try to enjoy a good memory, that memory would be spoiled by a feeling of confusion and questioning. "Did he already knew he loved me when this happened?", or "How things would have turned out if I had said what I actually wanted to say at that moment" or even an occasional "did he always look this good?", when going through old pictures. And he did go through a lot of old pictures. And the more he tried to move on, the more the feelings of sadness got mixed up with other unresolved feelings that simply wouldn't let go of him. 

They had a ceremony when things were more or less settled. Sam, Charly, Eileen, Jody, and the girls... Claire was particularly destroyed, and Dean could imagine why. The first time she lost her father, there was no body to bury. Even worse, his body was out there being used by somebody else. She had to say goodbye by herself to an absent figure without a single ritual, nothing that could help her move on. This time, her father's body was gone, as well as the dorky angel she had somehow grown to love. It was like losing Jimmy all over again, but this time she wasn't alone. More people with her acknowledged the loss and suffered with her. Even so, Dean figured Claire was probably the one person who had more reason than he did to be conflicted about her feelings regarding Castiel's death. 

"You ok, kiddo?" He asked her after the ceremony was over. She shrugged.  
"As ok as can be expected, I guess". He thought that was a good answer. Honest enough so that people wouldn't ask too many questions but evasive enough to avoid saying how she really felt. "I never really stopped being angry at him, you know? For taking my dad. I really liked Castiel. Like, really, really liked him. But I just..." her eyes filled with tears and she tried to clean them before they started running through her face. "I hope he knew that. That I liked him a lot".  
Dean put one hand on her shoulder and brought her close, to a side hug that turned into a real hug. He could feel Claire shaking against him as the crying became uncontrollable. He could relate to what she was going through, on some level. Missing someone you are unable to completely forgive, knowing that you will never be able to tell them you forgive them, even though you eventually do, and worst of all, feeling guilty for not being angry at someone who you loved, and that died before you could sort everything out.  
"He knew" Dean assured her, with a soft tap on her back. He wasn't sure that was how to comfort a girl, but he had never been around teenage girls, so he wouldn't know. He was good with children, he thought, but Claire was far from a child. So he hoped that would be enough. "He knew, Claire. Don't worry".  
They stayed like that, with Claire buried deep in his arms, trembling and crying, for quite a while. Eventually, Jody said they were living and asked if she wanted to come or if she wanted to stay a little longer, but Claire said she wanted to go home. Dean watched her enter the car with the other girls and hoped Castiel could hear her prayers, wherever he was because she would pray for him. And she would eventually resolve her feelings, just as he had eventually resolved the feelings he had towards his father when he passed. Just as he would eventually figure out what to do with his feelings towards Cass, he hoped. 

But it didn't get better. The sadness turned into anger and regret. Regret that there were thousands of missed opportunities to discuss his relationship with Cass while he was alive, but he was too stupid and too blind to even consider doing that. All that wasted time! Those thoughts eventually turned into bitterness, a bitterness that did not escape Sam's attention. He didn't address it at first but eventually began to bring up the subject of Cass purposefully. After a few months, he had a pretty good idea that something was wrong, and it was not simply a feeling of loss and sadness that came from the death of a loved one. It was something that was going on somewhere deeper in Dean's head. Eileen guessed what it could be before he did. Once she told him, he was embarrassed he didn't realize it sooner. He decided to confront Dean about it. 

"Dean, something happened with Cass, before he died?" They were cooking dinner (if you could call preparing a few sandwiches for movie night "cooking"), and Dean froze for a moment.  
"What do you mean?" He gave Sam a very meaningful look like he was saying "don't bullshit me and say what you actually want to say".  
"You know what I mean" Sam replied, letting go of the sandwich he was in the middle of ensembling. "Did you guys..."  
"WE didn't do anything", Dean looked away from his brother, "HE did. I was... I was too slow".  
Sam took a deep breath. He couldn't believe he actually got an answer, he was not expecting this much. He was afraid of what he would say next.  
"Do you wanna talk about it?" it was not the most brilliant question he could think of, but he meant it. Dean's eyes locked on his for a second, then he got back to slicing tomatos.  
"Not really man, no" his voice sounded tired, not angry, as Sam would have expected. "Maybe someday, but not today. I just can't, ok?"  
"Ok, Dean" Sam rested his hand on Dean's shoulder, just to make sure his brother knew he was there. "Whenever you're ready. 

But Dean never seemed to be ready, and his mood just got worse and worse. Eventually, he couldn't even be described as angry, just as lifeless and tired. Very tired. As if there wasn't any energy left on him to get angry. Sam tried forcing the conversation a few times, but it tended to push Dean away instead of helping him open up about whatever happened between him and Cass.  
He talked to Eileen about it. She was always helpful and optimistic, but there was just so much she could do. One night, about four months after Cass's death, Sam had Eileen asleep by his side, with her head resting on his chest, and he suddenly decided he would not accept that. He simply wouldn't. Not after eleven years of unsaid feelings Dean would never be able to work through. His brother deserved a happy ending, more than anyone else he knew. But if he couldn't give Dean that, at least he would give him closure.  
"Jack?" He whispered. Eileen couldn't hear him, of course, but he was still afraid of waking her, so he talked as softly as he could. "Are you there, buddy?"  
No Answer.  
"If you can hear me, I need your help. I know you said you wouldn't intervene on earth's business, and I know that, if you could bring Cass back, you would have". He took a deep breath. Dean had probably had this same conversation with Jack more than once, but it was still worth the shot "But if you could let them talk... I don't know, maybe a dream, or a spell, anything. Dean just needs to talk to Cass. Could you let them do that? Just talk"  
No answer. He tried not to get angry at Jack's absence. He knew it was not the kid's fault, but Jack owned them at least this much. Dean deserved at least this much. He could feel Eileen's slow and passed breaths against him. Her face was relaxed in her sleep, and he ran his fingers softly through her back. This was happiness. Her weight over him, the tranquility of going to sleep knowing she would be there when he woke up... it was so unfair to Dean and Cass.  
"Please, Jack" He pulled her closer to him as gently as he could so not to wake her up. Her body was so small next to his. "Just let them talk".  
When there was no answer once again, he finally surrendered himself to sleep. He would figure this out. He knew he would.


	2. talk to him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack makes an apperence

Jack came by the bunker on a Saturday morning. Sam and Eileen were just back from a morning run and Dean was working on the car, something he'd been doing a lot over the last few months, even though the car had barely left the garage. He appeared in the middle of the library and stood there, absolutely silent, waiting for everyone to notice him. The first one who did was Sam, who was coming from the kitchen with a bottle of water for Eileen, which he immediately dropped. When the bottle hit the ground, Jack turned to him, smiled, and raised his hand.

"Hi, Sam", he said. It took Sam a few seconds before he could answer.  
"Jack? Is that really you?"  
"Yes". Jack lowered his hand and gave Sam a slight shrug. "At least I'm pretty sure it is"

That was all the confirmation Sam needed. He walked to Jack and hug the kid tighter than he ever had. Jack returned the embrace tenderly, and Sam was relieved to notice that Jack felt very human. He was warm, and physically nothing had changed. He was still a lot shorter than Sam, for starters. When Jack finally pulled back from the hug, Sam took a moment to look at him: he looked so grown up. His features were unchanged, but his eyes had matured considerably. He had the expression of an old man with a lot of experience, like a father or a grandfather who had live through a great deal. He also looked as if he was at ease with everything, peaceful on the inside. Sam could not help but feel a little proud. 

"Dean?" He called, without looking away from Jack. Who knows? the kid might disappear again if he looked away. "You should come here!"  
"What?" The answer was a low and muffled sound coming from the garage.   
"Come here!" Sam screamed, louder, and more urgently. "Now!"

It took a few minutes for Dean to get to the library, with his shirt still covered in grease. He was cleaning his hands with a cloth and, to Sam's distress, did not look as if he was in a hurry. 

"So, what was so freaking import..." His eyes locked on Jack and he looked as if he had seen a ghost. Jack gave him the same soft, pure smile he had just given Sam and raised his hand to great Dean.   
"Hi Dean". 

Dean walked slowly towards them and for a second Sam was afraid he would smash Jack in the face or something like that. He had been pretty unpredictable over the past months and his expression was undecipherable. Instead, Dean simply stopped in front of him, analyzing the boy for a second, and then he pulled him into a strong hug, which apparently took both Sam and Jack by surprise. 

"Hey kid", Dean said, after pushing Jack away for a bit so he could look him in the eyes "it was about fucking time you decided to show up"  
"I've been busy", said Jack, apologetically,   
"I've been calling" Dean answered, and Sam was a bit shocked about how much he sounded like a father at that moment. He didn't sound annoyed though.   
"I know. I heard you". Jack lowered his eyes, looking for a second like the kid Sam remembered him to be. "I hear everyone, all the time. But I always pay attention to what you two are saying. But I couldn't come back. I promised myself I wouldn't."   
"Then why are you here, Jack?" asked Sam. For the first time since he had laid eyes on Jack again, he was worried there might be something wrong. But Jack's answer came accompanied by a smile.  
"I was finally able to talk to it", he said, sounding quite proud.  
"It?" Dean asked. The mood in the room had changed. There was some sort of tension now, like something big was about to happen and everyone was just waiting for the boom. Jack's smile widened.   
"The Empty" he answered. Sam saw the exact moment in which the word hit Dean. Like the ground had disappeared from beneath his feet. He grabbed Jack's shoulder violently and shook the kid.  
"You talked to the Empty?" Dean looked like he was about to scream, but his voice was unusually weak.   
"I've been trying to talk to it ever since I became God. But it was terribly angry after I exploded inside it and refused to talk to me. Completely shut off". Jack frowned as if the memory was somehow frustrating. "It wants to go back to sleep, but everything inside it was awoken by the blast. The Empty has been busy trying to put everything back in order, and it didn't want me to distract it from its work. But yesterday, it finally agreed to talk to me. It needs my help to reestablish itself". 

He paused for a second and looked at the brothers. Neither could say a thing. Sam looked at Dean but was unable to figure out what his brother was thinking. At first glance, Dean seemed shocked, but Sam knew that wasn't it. His expression was similar to the one he would have when they faced what seemed like an impossible situation and Dean's mind would start browsing through three hundred different scenarios, looking for a way out. He was thinking really hard about something. 

"And?" Sam finally asked. Jack turned to him like a child who just received the best school report in his class.   
"And I convinced it to let us talk to Castiel!" he said, thrilled. "Well, not all of us, but one of us, before the Empty goes back to sleep". He looked at Dean, filled with expectation. "We could say goodbye. Properly, this time".

Sam felt his eyes getting wet and a smile escaped his lips. Dean would be able to talk to Cass. Figure things out, say goodbye. He would finally be able to grieve properly, processes the loss healthily. He looked at Dean, searching for some sign of relief, but the look he found on his brother's face was mortifying. All color had disappeared from Dean's face and his eyes were lost somewhere far away. He blinked many times as if trying to wake himself up. There was not a single positive emotion in his mind right now. 

"Dean?" He called, but his brother didn't even look at him.   
"You mean we can't bring him back?" Dean finally said, without raising his eyes to any of them and keeping a low, deep voice. "We can talk to him, but that's it? We say goodbye and then let him rot in the Empty for the rest of eternity?" He faced Jack and Sam was surprised to notice the blink of a tear on his face. Dean's eyes were wet and red, but only a single tear rolled down his face. "How can you be ok with that, Jack?"  
"I don't like that any more than you do" Jack defended himself, sounding almost offended. "He was my father, Dean. I wish I could drag him out of there as much as you do. But Amara, the new Death and I... we are trying to establish balance, and that means respecting the Empty as an entity. I can't steal a soul that belongs to it. It's beyond my domain. But even if I could, it would be unwise. The universe has rules, and one of those rules is that everything dies eventually. It dies and we have to cope. We mourn, we grieve, and we remember. We keep the people we lost alive in new forms: memories, songs, feelings... that's how it works for every single creature on the planet, except you and Sam!"

Sam had never seen Jack angry before, at least not this angry. There was sorrow mixed with his anger, something that sounded like a feeling of impotence, which was ironic since he was God now. But looking at him, Sam could understand where it was coming from.   
Jack was clearly doing everything he could. He had probably tried to bring Castiel back in every single way he could think of. And he had been trying to do so alone for the past few months. He had all this power and yet he couldn't save the one person he cared about. Sam could not imagine how hard that was for him. Dean did not seem able to realize that. He looked enraged and destroyed at the same time. Now Sam was actually afraid he would punch Jack in the face. 

"What's the point of talking to him if we're not bringing him back?" Dean yield, like all his wrath had finally exploded inside him. "He made a deal with the Empty to save your fucking life, and you can't save him now? How is that fair? How is that a good ending after everything he's been through? He said he found his true happiness but that was fucking bullshit! He had no idea what true happiness could even feel like. He didn't have a chance to experience it! He could have lived a whole life!" Dean was crying now, crying hard, and screaming at Jack as if he wanted to kill the kid, but Jack bearly moved a muscle.   
"Dean..." Sam reached out his hand to touch his brother's shoulder, but Dean dismissed it with an aggressive gesture. Sam took a deep breath and pulled back his hand, but didn't back down. "It wasn't Jack's fault".  
"I know that!" Dean yelled again, still crying. "But it wasn't Cass's fault either. And yet we're all here and he is over there. And we are not doing anything about it". 

Neither Jack nor Sam said anything after that. They let Dean alone, crying as if he had forgotten they were there. Sam realized he had barely shed a tear after they ended Chuck. After a few moments, when he seemed to have calmed down a little, Sam reached out again and squeezed Dean's shoulder. Dean didn't pull away this time. 

"We have two days," Jack said, softly, as if he was afraid of disturbing this newfound tranquility. "After that, I will help the Empty to go back to sleep. If you want to talk to Castiel before that, just call me and I will answer. If you don't contact me, I will go on behalf of the three of us and give him a proper goodbye. He deserves that." 

Sam exchanged a quiet look with the kid and agreed with his head. He would convince Dean to talk to Cass, and Jack knew it. The boy gave them one last smile before leaving. 

"He would be glad if you were the one to go talk to him, Dean." He added. "From what I've heard, the two of you have unfinished business. This will be your last chance to set things straight with him. I will be waiting for your call". 

And with that said, Jack disappeared into thin air.


	3. The mess is always worth it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean won't let Cass rot in the Empty for eternity. He simply won't.

Sam didn't need to convince Dean into doing anything. Dean was prepared to go to the empty as soon as Jack said the word. What he was not prepared to do was to simply talk to Castiel. "Say a proper goodbye"? No fucking way. He was coming back with the angel, or he was not coming back at all. But he did use one of the two days Jack gave them to prepare himself. Busting someone from the Empty, he imagined, was not a very simple task. And he couldn't ask Sam or Jack for help. He figured they would help if he asked, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was like that part of the battle was his, his and Castiel's. 

Jack was waiting for them in the living room when Dean finally decided there was nothing else he could do to be prepared. Truth is, he could have been preparing himself for the past ten years and it wouldn't have made a difference. The Empty was not something he could predict. Jack smiled at him, looking much older than he actually was. The kid was all dressed in white, which fitted him. He was the perfect match between an Abercrombie and Fitch model and an angel. Or at least what normal people picture when they think of angels. 

"You're ready?" Jack asked.   
"As ready as I'll ever be". Dean was surprised with the resignation in his own voice. Sam was with Eilleen at the back of the living room. They both had anxious expressions on their faces but were clearly trying to be supportive. Dean gave them the most confident smile he could conjure.   
"Tell him we miss him," Sam said.   
"And that his sacrifice was not in vain", Jack added. He looked deeply at Dean when saying it, and Dean asked himself what could the kid possibly be implying by that. There was not much time for speculation. Jack snapped his fingers (how very Chuck of him!) and opened a rift. Its glow was not yellow or orange, like Jack's rifts to other worlds. It had a pale, bluish glow. Which Dean couldn't help but think was kind of ironic.  
"How long do I have?"  
"As long as the Empty says you have" Jack answered. "I can't tell you how time's going to feel for you in there. It could feel like days or it could feel like seconds". He paused for a very long moment as if he was considering if he should add something or leave it at that.   
"Knowing the Empty, it probably won't feel like much", Dean whispered, finishing Jack's thoughts. The boy's face told him he was right. Dean took a deep breath. He would have to make this work with little time then. "Ok then", he said, stepping into the rift. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The first thing he thought about when he entered the Empty was that there was no air. He could feel his chest moving as if he was breathing normally, but no air was coming in or out. The second thing he noticed was the silence. And the darkness. It was so, so terribly dark. He rephrased that on his mind. It was not dark. He could see himself just fine. It was just that there was nothing around him to see. Nothing but the rift he had just crossed. 

"You like it?" Said a familiar voice behind him. "It is almost as it was back in the day. Still a bit too loud though" 

Dean turned around and his hand instinctively slipped to the gun on his waist. It would be useless against anything in this place, he knew that. But Chuck's voice always had him reaching for a gun. He faced the man he had spent the last year trying to destroy. Chuck was dressed in sweatpants and an old green hoodie, looking exactly as he had looked almost ten years ago when Dean had first met him. A sci-fi writer with no money and very little recognition. Chuck smiled at him and Dean realized it was not Chuck.

"You are the Empty?" Chuck gave him a wink.  
"I thought it would be ironic to take on this form while I was remodeling," The empty said, looking around as if it was admiring its work. "He created me, you know? That never bothered me. I'm not picky. Dark and silent would do just fine" Another smile, more pleased this time. "But Jack... Jack gave me a bit more freedom".  
"Yeah" Dean looked around to all the nothing around him "I can see you went nuts with the decor".   
"It's not for you little human eyes" the Empty replied, sounding actually offended. "But if you could see it? Wow". Dean rolled his little human eyes.  
"Ok, Bob the Builder. I think you know why I am here". The Empty turned back to Dean as if it had forgotten he was there for a moment.   
"Oh, yes. Goodbye to the Angel"   
"Not goodbye". The Empty raised Chuck's eyebrows, looking quite actually surprised.   
"As I have told Jack..."  
"I know what you've told Jack" Dean howled. The slight change in the Empty's expression told him it was not happy about being yelled at. "I want to ask you for something else".   
"What could you possibly offer me?" The Empty laughed, scoffing at him.   
"Nothing" He admitted, taking the angel blade from his belt. It shined, which was weird since there was no light around for it to reflect. "But please hear me out". 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Cass was never asleep since he got to the Empty, but he had been alone in the darkness. He tried calling for the Empty a few times, but there was no answer. He could hear the movement and the whispers around him, which told him nothing else was asleep as well. He figured that was Jack's fault and couldn't help but feel a little proud. It would be easier, he told himself, once everything got back to sleep. Then maybe he wouldn't feel so alone. This level of loneliness gave him way too much time to think about everything. 

He tried not to think about how Dean reacted to their last moments together. Part of him was relieved he didn't have time to answer Castiel's declaration. What if didn't reciprocate? What if he was angry? What if right now Dean was trying to forget Castiel ever said anything? He couldn't take that. So maybe no answer was better than a bad answer, he convinced himself.   
Castiel tried to keep track of time, but it was useless. The feeling of time passing was similar to when he was in Heaven: an eternal now. No night or day or hours. But in Heaven, he was always surrounded by other angels and that gave everything a feeling of motion. Here, alone, everything was motionless. It was probably worse than Hell. In Hell, you would at least have daemons around you and torture going on. He grinned. That was something Dean would say. Until this moment, Cass wasn't quite sure he had mastered the use of sarcasm. It could still confuse him now and then. But he had understood it enough to make jokes about his own afterlife. He considered this growth. 

Castiel noticed when the Empty started to change. It was subtle and he believed only divine beings were actually able to grasp the extent of this change, but he could feel it moving, rearranging itself. The noise grew quieter with time as well. "This is it". He told himself. "It is preparing us to go back to sleep". This was the end. At least he had died doing something noble, at least his death had some purpose. And at least Dean knew. No matter how he reacted to it, he knew how Cass felt. That would have to be enough because he would never get anything else. 

Cass spent so much time trying to convince himself that when he saw Dean standing in front of him he was sure he was hallucinating. In the middle of that eternal now, where nothing happened, there was Dean, dressed in his usual flannel shirt, old jeans, and boots. He had a green jacket on, similar to the one he was wearing when Cass tossed him against a wall with a bloody handprint on his shoulder. It was not the same jacket though. Castiel had been around long enough to learn to differentiate between Dean's many similar outfits.   
He had pictured Dean so many times now that he only questioned if it could really be him when Dean smiled and spoke to him. His imaginary Dean never spoke. 

"Hey, Cass" Dean said, in a very low voice. That was him. Cass knew no figure of his imagination could possibly sound so much like Dean. He felt panic getting a hold of his mind and body. What had happened? Was Dean dead? What was he doing in the empty? Had he been sucked in when Cass summoned it to kill Death? Castiel ran towards Dean, desperate to check if he was ok, if that was somehow his fault. He would never forgive himself if it was. 

Dean was faster than him though. Before he realized it, the hunter had his arms wrapped tightly around Cass and was pulling him into a deep hug. He was holding him as if Cass was the most precious thing in the universe. As if he was afraid to let go and lose him all over again. Cass had been so preoccupied with the worst-case scenario and with settling with what he got that he hadn't even considered something like this. This warmth... it was beyond his expectations. He returned the hug, pressing Dean's body against his as tightly as he possibly could. When Dean finally pulled away, his eyes were filled with tears. 

"I told you never to do that again, you jackass". Dean took Cass's face between his hands and looked him in the eye when saying this. Cass had to laugh. He could feel tears in his own eyes. A few years ago, crying would have been something completely unimaginable to him. Now it seemed so normal. So easy.   
"Sorry" he answered. "I didn't think I would be dying again so soon".   
"I know how that feels like" It was Dean's turn to laugh. They were both laughing now. Dean still had Cass's face between his hands and they were so close to each other that their heads were inches from touching. Without thinking, Castiel let his head fall, and his forehead touched Dean's. They rested against each other for a moment. Cass had a guess Dean felt as tired as he did. But that felt good. Peaceful.

"I'm sorry I couldn't say anything back then", Dean whispered.   
"I never expected you to. Actually, I think one of the reasons I was able to say it was because I knew you wouldn't have time to give me an answer". Dean raised his head and faced Cass, with a very serious look in his eyes.   
"You were afraid of how I would react?" He sounded hurt as if that hadn't occurred to him until that moment.   
"Wouldn't you be? If you were in my position?" Dean let his hands fall beside his body and looked away. He seemed almost embarrassed.   
"I probably wouldn't have had the balls to say it in the first place" he admitted, sounding disgusted with himself. Utterly ashamed."I'm so sorry, Cass"   
"You have nothing to be sorry for"  
"Oh, I have plenty to be sorry for" Dean's eyes were locked on Castiel's again, and they were so intense Cass felt as if he was going to melt. "But we'll have time for that".  
"Dean, what do you..."  
"Just stay still". Dean's hand moved so fast Cass didn't even see it before the silver knife was already at his throat. Instinctively he tried to pull away, but Dean was holding him tightly with his free arm, almost in a hug. "Trust me, Cass". 

Castiel felt when the knife sliced his skin: a very small cut on his neck, under his chin. He had felt it before and knew exactly what was going on. He felt the moment his grace started to flow from his body. It wasn't flowing anywhere specific, just disappearing into the Empty, as if the darkness itself was draining it. And then it was over. He felt his body weaken and he would have felt to his knees if it wasn't for Dean, who hold him as soon as his legs gave in. 

"I've got you, Cass", he whispered. "I've got you"  
"Dean, what's going on?" Cass managed to ask. He was also holding on to Dean, feeling weaker and heavier than he had in many years.   
"The Empty is a place for angels," Dean said. "It can't hold humans. But it does like to use its residents' energy, especially now that it is remodeling. All those thousands of dead angels? Like a super battery. But the empty can't drain their grace. Just use it. God made sure of it and so did Jack".

Cass widened his eyes. He understood what Dean had just done, and it would come at a price. He held Dean's jacket and pulled him closer.

"Are you insane?" He was shocked, but Dean just laughed.  
"Probably. The good thing is, Jack is probably going to be so happy about you coming back, he won't even have time to get angry with me".   
"Dean, you shouldn't..."  
"Well, you shouldn't have traded your fucking life for anything, to begin with, ok? You did it because you love Jack. And then you surrendered yourself to the Empty for the very same reason. Because you love me". He paused for a second after he said that and Cass imagined if it was the first time Dean had said anything about it out loud. "We do stupid things for the people we love. And then we spend the following years trying to fix the mess we've made. But you know what? The mess is always worth it. And if we have to spend the next ten years figuring out a way to put the Empty back to sleep? So be it. You are going to be by my side while we do it". 

Cass opened his mouth to answer, but then a rift (probably the one Dean had used to get there) opened in front of them. They were still on the ground, Dean n his knees holding Cass and the (former) angel practically fallen on his lap. He searched for the Empty but they were alone in there. 

"Think it's time for us to go," Dean said, standing up and pulling Cass with him. He was still trembling a little but could walk. Dean moved so that Cass could put an arm around his neck and supported Castiel's weight on his shoulders. They were almost crossing the rift when Dean halted as if he had forgotten something and turned his head to Castiel.   
"I was too slow the last time we saw each other, Cass", he said. "I've been too slow for the past 15 years when it comes to you."  
"Dean, it's..." Cass was going to say it was ok, that he himself was not sure about how he felt until quite recently, but he couldn't finish the sentence, because Dean's lips were on his. And Cass couldn't process anything after that. 

It was a soft kiss, at the same time rushed and slow. It was shorter than Castiel would have liked, but that was probably for the best. He was so surprised he wasn't even sure if he had returned the kiss or simply stood there, too shocked to do anything. Dean's smirky little grin told him it was the latter. Castiel felt himself blushing with embarrassment and confusion.   
"I'm sorry I..."  
"Don't worry" Dean was practically laughing now. He seemed so happy Cass felt his own body relaxing under the sound of that laugh. He forgot how much he loved the sound of Dean's laughter. "We'll have time to do that again".   
Cass tried to return the smile as best as he could, but he was still in awe of what had just happened so he probably failed. The next time, he promised himself, he would give that man the best kiss of his life. The sole idea that there would be a second kiss was too much for his new human brain to handle. 

He was so happy at that moment that it was unimaginable how he could have taught "just saying it" would be enough. Compared to what he was feeling now, the happiness he had experienced at the bunker was nothing.   
But there would be plenty of opportunities to think about all that once they were back at home. Dean was right. There would be time. There would be so much time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is nervous about how his relationship with Cass is going to work out after they come back from the Empty. They try to figure it out over pancakes.

As it turns out, second kisses are way harder than first ones. In Dean's experience, they shouldn't be. Usually, if you had a decent first kiss, the second would come like some sort of natural progression. Which was not the case at all with him and Cass when they got back to the bunker.  
First of all, they didn't have as much time for themselves as they had first imagined they would. Sam and Jack were shocked then thrilled when they saw both of them coming out of the rift. Then, when Dean told them how he had managed to get Cass out, they were still happy, but less thrilled. Jack, in particular, looked as though he had just been hit by a truck. The kid was careful not to show just how preoccupied with the consequences of Dean's actions he actually was, but even though he was now God, he was still a terrible liar. But, just as Dean had predicted, he was too happy about Cass being back to get angry at any of them. 

Besides family time, which got in the way of the two of them trying to work things out privately, there was the fact that Cass was now human again, and he took a few days to fully adapt. He had been human only a few years back, and still remember most of it. But some things, such as brushing his teeth, somehow eluded him. Dean thought it was quite adorable. What was a bit less adorable and a lot more annoying was the fact that Cass needed a lot of sleep. It was almost as if he was making up for the past five years he hadn't slept at all. He was absolutely exhausted for the first couple of days. He would go to bed early and wake up late. And when he awoke he had Sam and Eileen all over him making sure he was feeling ok. Dean couldn't count how many times he had the urge of throwing Cass on the impala and driving away so that they could have some freaking time alone. 

Cass adapted faster than he had the last time. Dean was afraid a part of Cass would resent him for taking away his grace before asking. He should have asked, but he was too afraid Cass would have said no. That he would rather die as an angel than live the rest of his life as a human. He had taken that option away from Castiel and he wasn't entitled to do something like that. But Cass didn't seem angry with being human. He sometimes seemed a bit displeased with the more basic human aspects. For example, he hated feeling hot, and they had brought him back in the middle of the summer, so he was hot all the time. He hated to sweat and appeared to hate sunburns even more. It was funny to watch, but Dean missed the trenchcoat and the tie deeply. He had had more fantasies about gripping that tie than he would ever admit to anyone.  
They couldn't just go out and buy Cass new clothes, so for the time being, Dean lent him some of his own. There was something weirdly sexy in seeing Cass in his flannels and old jeans, but he had to admit the clothes didn't suit him at all. He looked like an awkward teenager trying to look cool in his butch older brother's clothes. 

The worst part was that, without time to sit down and have a proper conversation, Cass and Dean had fallen back into their old dynamic. At first, there was an awkwardness to it but eventually, even that started to fade. They were warm towards each other, but it was as if Cass's confession or everything that had happened in the Empty was stored away as if it had never happened. None of them seemed to know how to address it now that things were back to normal, so they simply didn't. After one week of that crap, Dean was starting to feel as if he had made it all up in his head. It was driving him insane. Until one day he finally had Cass alone. And he had no idea what to do with that. 

It was a Thursday morning. He woke up earlier than usual since he had plans for going to town with Cass before lunch and getting the poor angel a decent haircut and some clothes that could actually choose (Cass had asked for a new trenchcoat more than once). He went to the kitchen and found Cass standing in front of the stove, completely still and focused as if he was attempting to do brain surgery. 

"Morning, Cass", Dean said, patting him on the shoulder when passing by him. Touching Cass on the shoulder was something that came back naturally, with no sense of awkwardness at all. It was something he had always done. Second nature kind of gesture. "What are you doing there?"

"I'm attempting to make pancakes" Cass answered, with a very serious voice. Dean caught a glimpse of the pile of failed pancakes accumulating on the trash and tried not to laugh. "It is harder than it looks". 

"This one seems to be turning out alright", he said, looking over Cass's shoulder. 

"I got the recipe right, I suppose" Cass frowned. 

"Now you just have to flip them" Cass looked at him absolutely puzzled.

"What?"

"You have to flip the pancakes, Cass" Dean sighed and moved behind Cass. "Here, let me show you". 

He put his hand above Cass's so they were holding the frying pan together. He was looking over Cass's shoulder and there was less than an inch between his own body and Cass's back. That's how he had taught Sam to make pancakes when Sam was around five. They were alone in a motel somewhere in Pennsylvania and had slept past breakfast hours. He was not a great cook himself, but he could manage pancakes, and teaching Sam how to do it was a great way to distract an anxious five-year-old. Looking back on that Sam was probably too young to be near a stove but what the hell?  
Well, the situation with Cass felt absolutely different. First of all, he was not nine anymore, and Cass was not five. Second of all, it was not Sam. It was Cass. When all of that hit him his first instinct was to pull away, but he decided it would make the whole thing even more awkward. Cass didn't look bothered by it. He looked very interested in what Dean was trying to show him. And besides, Dean himself was rather enjoying the situation, so he kept his hand over Cass's and helped him flip the pancake, an accomplishment that put a soft smile on the angel's face. Seeing him all round of his little achievement was too much for Dean. He could feel his heart racing and his stomach clenching. And other less romantic symptoms too, so he pulled away before Cass could realize any of that. 

Castiel raised his head and his deep blue eyes met with Dean's. He was still smiling, so pure and innocent and adorable that it seemed almost a joke. He looked more angelic than he had ever looked when he was an actual angel. Dean kind of liked the obedient soldier on a trenchcoat that had pulled him out of hell eleven years ago. He had a deadly look, was extremely badass, and ridiculously hot (even though he would never have admitted that to himself at the time). But God, he liked this soft Castiel so much better. This, he thought to himself, was the real Cass. Not the angel of the Lord, no the merciless soldier of heaven. Not, as Chuck had described him, the self-hating angel of Thursday. He was this kind man who was thrilled to make pancakes, who hated being sweaty and had an insane obsession with trenchcoats. Jack's father. Dean's best friend. The angel who had fallen in love with humanity. And with whom Dean Winchester had fallen in love with. 

"You are happy about something" Cass tilted his head slightly, investigating Dean's expression. Dean realized he had a large smile on his face, and he wasn't even aware of it. Castiel continued starring. "Is it the pancakes?" Dean laughed. A grown-ass man should NOT be this cute. 

"Yeah, Cass. I'm really happy about the pancakes". 

"That's a relief" Castiel sighed. "I know you hate my coffee so I'm glad I am learning something"

"I do not hate your..." Cass looked at him like he had zero patience for anything Dean was about to say. "Ok. Your coffee could use some improvement."

"Why do you drink it every day if you don't like it?"

"Because you always put so much work into it". The answer made Castiel blush a little, which pleased Dean. "And is not that bad. It is drinkable"

"You don't have to tolerate things to make me happy, Dean". Cass was very serious now. Serious enough for Dean to realize he was not talking about the coffee. "And you don't have to make yourself uncomfortable out of some sense of guilt or indebtedness. I am happy to be human. You made the right call". Cass paused for a long time as if he was choosing his words carefully. "And I didn't surround myself to the Empty expecting anything from in return. I did it for me". 

It took Dean a moment to understand what Cass was trying to say, and when he did, he felt almost offended. 

"Cass, I didn't bring you back to pay off a debt. I did it because you've been one of the most important people in my life for the past decade, and I don't know how to live without you anymore" He sounded angrier than he intended to. "And I don't drink your coffee because I'm guilty of turning you human. I do feel guilty about doing it without asking for your permission, but I would do it again and again and again if it meant having you back. Even if you would hate me afterward. And I didn't kiss you because I thought I owed you something, I kissed you because I love you!" He was practically yelling at the end, and Cass looked so shocked he considered if he had gone a little overboard. But it was too late to go back now, and he felt better for saying it out loud. So much better. "I meant what I said in the Empty, Cass", he added, lowering his voice. "Every word of it. I'm just sorry it took me three apocalypses to finally say it." 

Cass didn't say anything for a moment. Then he looked up at Dean and smiled. And it was the most perfect smile. He took five steps forward with more confidence than he had ever shone since he had rebelled against haven. There was a spark of the old "warrior angel" in his eyes, which was good because Dean really liked that expression. And he was about to say it when Castiel wrapped his head with his hands and pulled him almost violently into a deep kiss. It was very different from the one they had shared at the Empty. That one was rushed, desperate, and a little awkward. This one was deep and long, even though still a little desperate. 

After a while, Dean took Cass by the shoulders and tossed him against the closest wall. He wasn't really thinking about it, just acting upon instinct, desire, and happiness. But he was a bit rougher than he had intended and Cass let a little out "ouch" sound when he hit the wall. 

"Sorry" Dean apologized, but Cass was laughing. "You know, you did this to me too, you know? And I am being a hell of a lot nicer than you were back then". 

"I believe my intentions were a bit different back then than yours right now" Cass paused for a second as if he was recalling his fight with Dean when he had pinned the human against a wall rather violently. "Well, maybe deep down they were not that different." 

Dean kissed him again over the sassy smile that was beginning to form on Castiel's lips. Cass kissed him back. What Dean was more surprised about was how easy this was, how natural it felt. For the past week, he had imagined how weird it would be to change his relationship with Castiel. He thought it would require a lot of getting used to and a lot of awkward moments and forced intimacies. But couldn't have been more wrong. Once they turned the key, the rest came easily as if they had done it many, many times before. 

The only reason he let go of Cass was that he smelled smoke. Cass still had his arms around Dean and was looking over his shoulder, breathless. His hair all messed up and Dean's hand still on his neck. His eyes were a mix of confusion and sadness. 

"I think we burned the pancake", he said, sounding miserable. He looked like someone who had just been thrown against a wall and kissed as if there was no tomorrow. That's why his sad face over burned pancakes was even more adorable. Dean kissed him again, softly this time, and then let his head rest against Cass's. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this happy. Cass had said he was changed by Dean, but Dean couldn't begin to express how much Cass had changed him as well. 

"Don't worry, Cass", He whispered, running his fingers through the former angel's hair. "We can make more. We will make as many as you like".


End file.
